#11
|
||||
|
||||
__________________
Keep on snippin' ... Johnny |
#12
|
||||
|
||||
Dear friends:
I take my 1855 bugle that went through the American civil war go to Old Fort Niagara Burial Ground and Blow Taps. at 11am Nov 11 God Bless, Miles
__________________
If man could be crossed with the cat it would improve man, but it would deteriorate the cat. - Mark Twain Notebook, 1894 |
#13
|
||||
|
||||
I wear two plastic bangles on my right wrist. A blue one with red poppies on it for the WW1 & 2 remembrances, and a camouflage one with white poppies on it in remembrance of the boys they wouldn't let us bring home from the Falklands. I do not take these off ... ever, and I still get funny looks from my wife for saluting the sunset every day.
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we WILL remember them.
__________________
Keep on snippin' ... Johnny |
#14
|
|||
|
|||
we WILL REMEMBER THEM
|
#15
|
||||
|
||||
Robert Laurence Binyon - first published in The Times newspaper in 1914.
The fourth stanza was adopted by the Royal British Legion as an Exhortation for Ceremonies of Remembrance, to commemorate fallen Servicemen and women. As a result this stanza is now familiar to many... With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children, England mourns for her dead across the sea. Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit, Fallen in the cause of the free. Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres. There is music in the midst of desolation And a glory that shines upon our tears. They went with songs to the battle, they were young, Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow. They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted, They fell with their faces to the foe. They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning We will remember them. They mingle not with their laughing comrades again; They sit no more at familiar tables of home; They have no lot in our labour of the day-time; They sleep beyond England's foam. But where our desires are and our hopes profound, Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight, To the innermost heart of their own land they are known As the stars are known to the Night; As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust, Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain, As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness, To the end, to the end, they remain. Incidentally, when Binyon wrote this, the lines of the fourth stanza was the first part of the poem that he wrote.
__________________
The SD40 is 55 now! |
Google Adsense |
#16
|
||||
|
||||
This morning I have seen first collection box from Legion's Poppy Fund.It was at my favorite diner (or in this case breakfast ) joint.Soon enough they will pop up everywhere and migrate to jackets.People do remember.
|
Thread Tools | |
Display Modes | |
|
|